Tekken: Broken Lineage
by RarelessTales11
Summary: Jin Kazama enters the Iron Fist Tournament to confront his grandfather Heihachi Mishima and uncover the mystery behind his mother's disappearance. Based off the events in Tekken 3, this story gives a fresh retelling of Jin's first martial arts campaign.
1. Prologue

-1 The busy marketplace settled as customers gathered their items and headed home for the evening. Shopkeepers eagerly counted their money hoping to make a decent profit by the week's end. The middle aged Higashi Takara stood at the entrance to his store, peering over the northern hill which overlooked the Kurobe Valley in Japan.

"Do you believe she will come today?" his assistant, asked. "She is usually here by now."

Higashi chuckled to himself. "Patience young man, she will make it today, she always does." He listened to the ritual clicks and clacks of neighboring store owners locking their doors.

Time passed on, and Higashi remained in the doorway. He crossed his arms, then turned to gaze at the sun perched upon the western oaks. "Don't you have school tomorrow?" he asked his assistant.

"Yes sir."

"Well, I should send you home now. Your parents will get upset if I keep you past dusk, and you've done well in helping me run the store."

"Thank you sir."

"No problem, I'll see you tomorrow." Higashi watched as the boy went home. He then closed his eyes while reviewing in his mind what he should do if she did not arrive.

Just then, a figure appeared over the hill. A grin immediately crossed Higashi's face, he scolded himself for ever doubting. He left the door open and went inside where he gathered all his unsold items for the day. He finished arranging a half empty basket of fish when he looked up and saw the silhouette.

"You almost had me worried Jun Kazama," Higashi said.

"I apologize for being late. Thank you for waiting." Jun put down the large bag she carried on her back. It was full of grain collected that morning.

"Go ahead and gather what you need," Higashi picked up the bag of grain and took it to the stock room. He left a new bag for her. Jun helped herself to a dozen fish, some eel, as well as some vegetables and fruits. As she strapped on the bag, Higashi reentered. The two exchanged glances for a few moments. Higashi looked at the young woman's soiled shoes and faded clothes. "How's the boy doing?" he asked.

"He had a fever earlier this week but today he seems fine," Jun replied.

"I have no doubt he'll be alright, the boy is strong, too strong for his age." Higashi lit a pipe as they stepped outside. "Is the boy still kept for while you're away?"

"Yes, though I'm afraid there will soon be no volunteers left. Rumor has spread from our previous home near the eastern mountains. The villagers are scared, few of them will have anything to do with my son."

"How bad are the seizures now?"

"They were always violent, but now I sometimes cannot control him."

"Why don't you take the boy to come stay in the city. They have good medical facilities in my district. Perhaps they can find out what's wrong with him. Doing this on your own...it's too much."

"I appreciate your concern, but the city is no place for us. I fear more what would happen to him there. These villagers still allow me live among them, and that is all I can ask for."

"They will surely cast you out. These people just happen to be more patient than the others. How long can you live wandering from village to village? You grow wearier with each visit and the boy lacks any interaction with common folk."

"If they cast us out, I will not resist. We will find another home in the countryside. The fields and forests of this land give me strength to live each day. Without them, my soul would faintly kindle. It is my desire that Jin would also find his peace here."

"Very well," Higashi brushed his hands through the thinning hairs of his head. "I trust you're doing what's right for you and the boy. But please, if there's anything else I can do for you, let me know."

"I'll be sure to do so." Jun replied.

"And one more thing," Higashi added, "be on time next week, I'll be expecting you as always." The two friends exchanged a mutual smile, and then parted.

* * *

><p>Jun trekked along the dirt path towards her home. It had been an hour since she left the marketplace, and yet, she refused to stop and rest, ignoring the plight of her straining muscles. She reached up to adjust her sweat drenched headband and took notice of the moon above the clouds, her guiding light along with the fireflies, beacons in the tall grass. The damp air formed droplets on her toned arms as she lugged her food sack across the landscape. A smile grew on her face as Jun considered her son Jin. No matter how bad things were, he always found a way to remind her why she was so fortunate. Everything about him filled her soul with sunshine.<p>

Jin would be especially happy tonight, she had plenty of salmon, his favorite. The summer festivals had begun, and even though they would be celebrating alone, she wanted these days to be special. Jun continued onward, traversing a short bridge, then taking a turn which lead her to a wide, wooded juncture. Jun looked ahead and noticed four male figures lingering on the side of the path. As she drew near, the smell of alcohol stung her nose. She kept her gaze forward as she brushed past the bystanders.

"Hey lady," one of the men gabbled, "aren't you the mother of that crazy boy? He don't belong here, why don't you take him and toss him off a cliff? That way you can better enjoy our company." Hoarse laughter broke the night silence.

Jun steadied on with disregard, home was just a few miles away, and a quicker pace would get her there sooner. The path ahead of her narrowed while the trees gathered above; their stark roots crept along her feet. The peering eyes at her back approached with menacing steps, carefully tracking their prey.

"I think I like the silent type," the man croaked. He charged towards Jun, knocking her completely off balance. The weight of the bag pulled her forward and she stumbled head first into the ground. She slowly recovered and looked at the bag beside her, which lay open with a torn strap. She stepped over the scattered food to face the four attackers as they candidly gazed upon the rations.

"Leave now and I will forgive you," Jun's face hardened. The bandits' greed drove them eagerly forward. The first man shot out his hand and grasped Jun's arm. He reached his other hand for her throat, but was met by a cold elbow. He clasped his broken face as he staggered backwards. The three friends wildly stared at their injured comrade and then, in a drunken rage, rushed at Jun. She wove through the attackers with grace, a dance of fists and feet, striking her opponents at will. The first man ran at her again, swinging a sharp edged stick. Jun evaded the strikes, and dodged the weapon with a well timed crouch. The man slashed his friend instead, who cursed and then sunk down in agony. Before he knew what he had done, the man was kicked in the back of the head, and he fell unconscious. The others got to their feet and scurried off with some of the fish. Jun hunched over the torn sack. She scavenged whatever was left and then slung the remaining strap around her arm. She then ambled up the solemn path, only this time, more slowly. Thunder then sounded, and it rained.

* * *

><p>Jun entered the village where her home sat isolated on the far end. She trudged up the hill with houses on either side, latched shut and silent, as looks of disdain and terror pierced out from the windows. The surrounding trees drooped from the force of the falling rain, their leaves flew off in the gust, only to settle strewn about the earthen floor. As she approached the entrance to her house, Jun's ears caught a faint whimpering voice that seemed to echo from within. She stepped inside and froze at the scene before her. Inside was complete destruction and mayhem, the home was wrecked. Water trickled in through the roof, and there was a large gaping hole in the wood-thatch wall. Jun dropped her sack and moved towards the far corner where a female sitter lay curled. Blood pounded in her throat as she met the woman's frightening glare.<p>

"What happened? Where is Jin?" Jun cried.

"B...black feathers, black feathers!" the woman motioned her deeply scraped forearm towards the drenched floor covered in blood and feathers.

Jun scrambled towards the broken wall and saw a series of muddy steps leading into the forest. "Stay here," she commanded.

"Don't go…please, Jun, your son, he's…changed," the woman pleaded.

"I must find him," Jun leaped out and followed the trail into the darkness. She ran endlessly through the woods, calling her son's name. Flashes of lightning illuminated the forest, revealing additional tracks each time. Jun's staggering pace soon became a jog, then a trot, and then a lumber as her lungs burned with exhaustion. She then stopped altogether to regain her breath. Her deep wheezing was drowned out by the booms of thunder. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, a shadow descended upon her. Jun turned around and screamed in terror.


	2. Chapter 1

-1 Jin darted across the dojo floor with finesse. Sweat flew off his muscular body as he defended himself from the attacker. Strikes cut through the air and battle cries echoed off the walls. Arm locks and throws were evaded with tactical precision. The summer afternoon sunshine illuminated the room, casting a shadow of fury around the fighters. The combatants relentlessly fought at a tireless pace until a high pitched buzzer halted their altercation.

A grin crossed Jin's face amidst the heavy breathing, "You're getting better Asuka," he said, "my defense barely held up this time."

"I'll get you next time for sure," Asuka said as she shut off the timer, "I barely broke a sweat. Two hours of sparring is too short."

"Speak for yourself," Jin chided. He draped a towel across his broad shoulders and removed his red leather sparring gloves. A set of hard calluses sat upon his knuckles. It was a sight that always brought back memories of the inhumane training imposed upon him by his grandfather, Heihachi Mishima. He was glad those days were over. When he had saved enough money for himself, Jin fled Japan to stay with his uncle in the United States, who happened to run a part-time dojo in San Diego.

The dojo, named Kazama Martial Arts, was a perfect fit for Jin who picked up quickly on the ryu-kobujutsu karate style after unlearning his former techniques. It wasn't long until he acquired his fourth degree black belt and began teaching students regularly. When he wasn't instructing a class, he was training beside his brash and beautiful cousin Asuka. Initially, the two of them quarreled frequently and Jin struggled to adapt to the American way of life. However, they eventually formed a strong friendship.

Jin was thankful for her companionship and that she never had to experience what he went through with his grandfather. At seventeen years old, Asuka demonstrated incredible maturity, and even though Jin was five years her senior, Asuka's fighting prowess was almost equal to his own. Yet, there was something about Jin's cousin that troubled him.

Jin looked as Asuka as she downed a bottle of water. "You look so much like her," he said.

Asuka halted mid gulp and wiped her mouth. "Jin, I don't think you should say that," she looked down at the remaining water in her bottle, "my father told me what happened."

"I know, but he doesn't understand anything more than I did on that day."

"He told me he searched for your mother for years but never found her. He was so heartbroken he eventually moved to here try and continue on with his life. He still blames himself you know."

"He shouldn't, I was there that night I—"

"—and neither should you," Asuka wrapped her arm around Jin, "we'll get through this, we have her strength in us."

Jin felt a bit better, but there was little he could do to avoid the haunting images of that night. It still didn't make any sense to him. He often tried to convince himself that it wasn't true, but then the nightmares would return—the screaming, the lightning, the tears. On some nights Heihachi would even enter Jin's room and strike him in the head for yelling in his sleep. Since the day he found out she was gone, Jin promised himself he would one day find out the truth, even if it cost him everything.

Just then, a handsome stranger entered through the dojo's glass doors. In stepped a stylish man wearing a suit. He carried with him an aura of arrogance as he swept back his bleached white hair. It wasn't out of the ordinary to have visitors during off hours, but something about this encounter seemed different.

"Can I help you?" Jin asked.

"I'm looking for Mr. Kazama," the stranger said. His voice sounded like royalty.

"Both the owner and I carry the same surname."

"Very well then. I'm seeking Jin Kazama."

"That is my name. What can I do for you? Please have some water, we offer it to all of our visitors."

"Thank you, but I'm fine. My name is Lee Chaolan. I've come to personally invite you to the opportunity of a lifetime—"

"And what might _that _be?" Asuka intervened. "We're doing well on our own and don't need anybody's help."

Jin softly placed a hand on his cousin's shoulder. "I apologize for the interruption, please continue."

Lee laughed quietly to himself, "You are invited to a tournament, an event that will be like no other. Fighters from nations all over the world will compete for the chance to become the planet's greatest champion. The top three victors will receive a reward purse of over two million in U.S. currency."

"Where is the tournament being held?" Jin asked.

"The preliminaries will take place at many locations across the globe. However, the top sixteen fighters will report to Osaka, Japan to compete in the two week grand event."

Jin's eyes narrowed. "What are the tournament rules?"

Lee removed a silver envelope from his suit pocket and handed it to Jin. "All the information you need is enclosed. If you are interested, call the listed RSVP number, that will ensure that your name is on the bracket. Preliminaries will be held in one month at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. If you place in the top three, you'll have a paid for trip to Japan. That is all. Good luck." And with that, the visitor was gone.

"That was odd," Asuka said, "I don't trust him Jin, something doesn't feel right."

"No," Jin responded, "I have a good idea of who would be brazen enough to host such an event in Japan."

Asuka remained silent.

"Yes, with all the wealth and prestige involved, I'm sure of it."

"Which is why you should be careful. He could be trying to lure you out," Asuka said.

Jin nodded his head, "But I'm not the same person I was back then. Casting out the Mishima doctrine of martial arts has given me new strength. For so long I've been afraid to ask him about what happened, but it's time to stop running. This tournament will give me the opportunity to confront him."

"I'm coming with you."

"It's better if you stay to look after the school. I would be doing a disservice to your father if I brought you along. My training here has been invaluable, and I'll be sure to invest any money I win back into the school. It's the best I can do to express my thanks."

Jin then doubled over as a fist slammed into his stomach.

Asuka excitedly loosened up her shoulders, "Well if that's the case, then we can't waste any time now can we? How about another round?"

Jin smiled gamely, "You're on!"

* * *

><p>Jin stretched out in the fighters' locker room at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. He wore his new gi pants—all black with a flame riding up the right leg. They were especially made for him by Asuka, comfortable yet not too loose. He continued to warm up as the roars of the crowd above shook the room. It only reminded him about the scope of tournament and the high stakes involved.<p>

In a few moments a voice sounded on the intercom. "_First call for Jin Kazama. Please report to the arena for combat." _

Jin exited the changing room and headed for a ramp at the end of the hallway. He halted as a voice called from behind.

"Kazuya?"

Jin's heart froze at the sound of his father's name. He turned around to see a scruffy man—perhaps in his mid-thirties—who wore a tattered, sleeveless, red gi. More noticeable though was the man's peculiar blond hair, which was gelled up into a flat-top.

"What do you know about my father?" Jin snapped.

"Hey whoa, calm down buddy, I fought him once at an underground tournament, that's all. He never seemed like the type to have a kid though." The man eyed Jin carefully. "Yeah, you look just like him, no doubt you're his son."

Jin traced his hands through his windswept hair. In a calmer tone he asked, "My father…what was he like?"

"Man, your dad gave me the toughest fight of my life. Guy fought like a devil—gave me the only draw of my career."

"Do you know where he is—is he still alive?"

"To be honest kid, I dunno. I doubt he'd be the type to die easy though."

Jin clenched his fists, "if he's still alive, I need to find him."

"No problem there kid, he'd definitely enter this tournament."

"You think so?"

A raspy chuckle emerged from the man's throat. "He'd have to. The man is a fierce competitor. There's no way he could resist."

At that moment a message from the intercom echoed through the hall. _"Last call for all fighters. Please proceed to the arena for combat." _

The man then grasped Jin's hand in a firm grip.

"Name's Paul Phoenix, hope to face you in the finals."

"Jin Kazama, likewise."

Wearing a curt grin, Paul swept by and up the ramp.

Jin followed after him, deeply considering what lay ahead. This would not be a typical tournament for him. To make it to Japan, he'd have to be in top form.

* * *

><p>Elimination rounds proceeded in front of a crazed audience. The level of sheer talent made for some astounding battles as the building quaked. But this excitement was met by a much different demeanor elsewhere in the facility. Above the arena, in the private lounge, several men sat casually with a bottle of wine among them. They wore expensive clothing, tailored suits cut to their exact fit—anything less was unacceptable.<p>

At the head of an overly long table sat Lee Chaolan. Light gleamed off his flawless face as he crossed his legs. "We have quite an event here gentlemen," he said, "however, the purpose of this meeting is not for entertainment as you all know." The other men nodded in agreement.

"As you all know, the Mishima Corporation is looking for Stateside funding with plans of expanding to the West. We are a highly successful banking and industrial conglomerate. Our financial and scientific assets are currently rated higher than any other company in Japan, combined. And as chief financial executive, it is my duty to secure potential investors for our industry in North America."

"Well then," a bald headed man adjusted his black shades, "I'm sure you are aware that we all currently have stock in the U.S. based company, G Corporation. If I understand correctly, the Mishima Conglomerate will be a major competitor when it arrives stateside. How can you be sure that this company will prove the stronger?"

A haughty grin crossed Lee's face, "Doctor Abel, we have already been in competition with G Corporation for many years now. While they have remained a static scientific industry, specializing in bioengineering, we have expanded our financial empire. We have provided services to countries worldwide, helping them to manage cash-flow and minimize inflation. Our banks are renowned for having the most secure technology available."

Lee continued without pause, "On the other hand, we have the Heavy Industries division, which has played a key role in the Japanese automotive market as well as military technologies. Our mechanical enhancements and robotics have increased the production rate of motor vehicles. We also have several research facilities with our main building stationed near Osaka, Japan. There we have made discoveries that far surpass what G Corporation has done in bioengineering. Overall, gentlemen, an investment in our U.S. branch would be a wise decision."

Lee gave the men a couple moments to assess the deal. He knew they were already influenced by the success of the Mishima industry. The opportunity presented before them could not be dismissed—an investment now would generate enormous profits in the years to come. When the men finally reached a consensus, Lee eagerly awaited their response.

Doctor Abel wiped his wrinkled forehead with a handkerchief. "Mr. Chaolan, it seems like the Mishima Corporation would fit very well here. You do understand, though, that any money we put into starting up the company here will undermine our support for G Corporation."

"Yes, I am aware of that," Lee said.

"This means we need a company that is stable from the inside, one that is not likely to bring itself down."

Lee pursed his lips into a thin line. He knew exactly what they meant.

Doctor Abel folded his hands on the table, "I've followed up some recent reports in Japan concerning your company, sir. It seems as if there have been some violent attacks on a few of your facilities: one in Nagoya, and another near Tokyo. It almost appears as if someone is trying to sabotage your business from within. Mr. Chaolan, if we are to invest in your company, we need to be certain that such a thing does not continue."

"I assure you that the business is stable and that these minor incidents will have no effect on the North American division of our corporation." Lee forced a smile.

"I'm afraid your word alone is not enough," Doctor Abel replied, "This is a vital investment that must be successful at all costs. We will wait for two months. If the attacks have subsided, then we will give you what you need to get started over here."

"I find that unacceptable," Lee snapped, "This will set back my schedule indefinitely, Heihachi will not be—"

"Please, Mr. Chaolan, we _do_ want to invest in the company and we believe you'll be very successful. But understand that there is also considerable risk on our part. It's going to take quite a financial push from all of us to support such a large industry. We need to be absolutely sure this business will not face problems too early. After all, how much time could you really dedicate to this project while holding that tournament in Japan? Patience will prove to be beneficial on both our parts." A shaken Doctor Abel was pleased to see his host settle back into his chair.

Lee turned towards the window and viewed the competition below. He ignored his reflection as he contemplated the consequences of not closing the deal immediately. Of course a deal in the future might still be possible, but he had other plans, plans not even his boss knew about.

* * *

><p>Jin prepared for the final fight. After three matches, it was time to claim the last victory. The preliminaries weren't as difficult as he expected, but challenging nonetheless. He entered the ring and ahead of him stood Paul Phoenix, stone faced and hard edged, loosening his massive arms. It didn't take much to convince Jin that this wasn't a man accustomed to losing.<p>

The referee stepped in, ready to finish off the long night of battles. Sweat beaded on his skin as he turned to address the fighters. He pointed towards Paul, "are you ready?" he called. Paul responded with a nod. He then addressed Jin, who placed in his mouth guard and also nodded. "Okay," the ref shouted, "fight!"

The crowd let out a deafening roar as the two fighters closed distance quickly. While circling to the right, Jin observed Paul's stance, he saw no openings to the face or the body—it was as solid a defense as he'd ever seen. He proceeded with a series of strong leg kicks. His opponent received the blows with the patience of a veteran.

Jin pressed on, hoping to utilize his speed advantage. He followed up his kicks with quick jabs. He hoped his constant attack would prevent Paul from initiating any offense. The stout hearted fighter soon realized though, that many of his strikes were causing little damage, due greatly to the brick-like arms and legs of his adversary.

Jin had to find a way to break the defense. He stepped to the side and approached Paul at an angle. He then strung together a series of vicious combinations ending in a right hook. He watched as Paul staggered, dropping to a knee.

Jin then stepped in for a side kick, but was caught off guard when Paul caught his foot. He felt his ankle lock, and then found himself twirling through the air, landing hard on the dusty canvas.

Jin scrambled to his feet in time to absorb a powerful punch to the abdomen— powerful enough to lift him from the ground. His tightly knit muscles bore the impact and prevented his bones from breaking like the many others before him. He breathed heavily. The referee began counting, but Jin leapt to his feet, silencing him.

Now weakened by his opponent's counterattack, Jin had no choice but to change his strategy. He assumed an defensive Tensho stance. He could parry much better from that position.

As Paul charged in, he feigned a punch, then hooked Jin's leg for a sweep. Jin anticipated the trick and shifted his weight accordingly. He shot out a hard jab while lightly raising his hooked leg. Paul was struck squarely by the attack and left himself open for Jin's following maneuver. Jin clasped Paul's arm and then brought his leg over, finishing with a face kick that sent Paul to the floor.

The arena was lit up with excited yells, awaiting the fate of the downed fighter. Paul got to his feet and turned to face Jin. The two locked into each other's gaze, attempting to predict the next course of action. Onlookers could tell that the match would soon be decided.

Jin cautiously approached his opponent. Surely an uppercut would win him the match. He closed the distance and threw a short jab with his left arm, but before his right arm could come up, he was tackled. From underneath, Jin grabbed his opponent's wrists to prevent strikes from raining down. He then twisted his body while trapping Paul's outer leg.

Paul, seemingly aware of this sweeping technique, moved to the side and grabbed Jin's hand, falling into an arm-lock. A struggle on the ground ensued. Jin fought with every once of strength against the submission technique, but found himself outmatched. Seeing the inevitable defeat, the referee stopped the fight and untangled the fighters. He brought them to their feet, held each of their hands, and raised Paul's arm in victory.


	3. Chapter 2

The lobby was congested at San Diego International Airport. Travelers foreign and domestic hurried back and forth trying to make their flights. Jin sat calmly with his earphones on, listening to _Porcelain_ by Moby on his iPod. He glanced at the departure time for his flight on the nearby ticker. A cool half hour before boarding, not too bad he thought. Running late was nothing but a rare occurrence for him. His training kept him disciplined in that regard.

It was almost two months since his placement in the King of Ironfist Round of 16. Jin's training was rigorous, but even more rigorous was managing the tide of new enrollments in his grandfather's martial arts school. News traveled quickly about his participation in the prestigious event and he soon learned how reputation sells memberships. Asuka had been more than helpful in taking on the responsibilities of running the dojo. She sure was a quick learner, he thought.

Asuka munched on chocolate Pocky Sticks as she sat beside her cousin. Helping Jin train for the tournament was no easy task, but it was one she took on with pride. From early morning runs to late nights at the gym, it was her role to monitor his performance. He couldn't have done it without her and she knew that. It was quite startling, however, to see the gains Jin made in such a short time. During their time together, she'd never seen him work so intensely. It was almost like he was training to save his life, a thought that didn't sit well with her. She gave Jin a concerned look to which he responded by removing his earphones.

"Do you think you'll fight Paul Phoenix again?" she asked.

Jin felt a twinge in his arm at the mention of the name, "I can't say for sure, but I know I'm itching for a rematch."

"Well if you do, make sure to give him a good beating on my behalf," Asuka said.

Jin smiled, "I'll be more than happy to do that—"

"Who's gonna be beatin' who?"

The two cousins spun around and to their surprise sat the very man they were discussing. He wore a tight black shirt with brown leather pants and his luggage took up three seats. Jin noticed that Paul had his hair draped down this time, perhaps he only gelled it up for fights.

"Taking the flight out of San Diego?" Jin asked, "I don't remember you being from here."

"I'm not," Paul responded, "Chicago, born and raised. Just thought I'd pay a visit out here before leaving for the tourney."

"Family."

"No, more of a business interest."

"And what might that be?"

Jin watched Paul reach into his pocket and remove his smart phone. He looked closer at the screen wallpaper and to his dismay saw a photo of the Kazama Martial Arts school. He looked at Asuka as her face turned from surprise to anger.

Paul let out a throaty laugh, "Just keeping my options open after I win the tournament. Good chance I'll use the prize money to renovate your crummy little dojo, after I become the owner that is."

"Not a chance!" Asuka contended. She began to rise over her seat, but Jin reminded her where they were.

"Used to have a dojo myself," Paul grinned, "...worked those damn students into the ground. I made sure they were puking at the end of each practice, I miss those days."

"And what happened to this school?" Jin asked.

Paul frowned, "Bankrupt. Stupid pansies couldn't handle it and left me in debt. I'll show them, wait 'till they see me holding that winner's trophy in front of the whole world. Fighters from all over will crawl through my door giving me piles of cash to train in my dojo, just wait and see—"

"Jin will beat your ass," Asuka grumbled, "just wait and see."

Before the exchange could escalate, the airport intercom switched on. "_Now boarding_ _Japan Airlines flight JL77 to Osaka. All passengers have your tickets ready."_

Paul Phoenix gathered his belongings, "Your girlfriend annoys the hell outta me," he said as he walked off.

"We're cousins!" Asuka called out, but he didn't hear.

Jin slung his carry-on around his shoulder and looked at Asuka. Her angry demeanor began to fade.

"I'm going to miss you,"she said. Asuka dropped her box of Pocky and gave Jin an enormous hug. "Be safe and come back."

"I will," Jin said, "I'll be fine." Then he remembered something. "My fights will be on television, you can watch them live if you're up late."

"You can count on it," Asuka replied.

Jin then headed to the boarding line. Almost there, he glanced back at Asuka, who gave him a parting wave. Jin smiled and waved back. Their weeks of training were over so soon he thought. They were hard weeks but he enjoyed them nonetheless, it was almost as if his mother was never gone. The thought slightly rattled his psyche.

"Tickets sir?"

Jin handed his ticket to the fight attendant who checked it and granted him entrance. Up ahead he could see the stocky back of Paul Phoenix towering above the other passengers as they lumbered through the jet way. Jin promised himself that if he ever fought Paul again it would be a dominant, decisive victory. Defeating such an opponent would certainly draw the attention of his father—if he truly was still alive–and maybe then he could find answers to his past. Yet a deep sensation, within his gut, told him men like Paul would actually be the least of his concerns.

—

Lee Chaolan observed the bright Osaka night lights from his office suite at the Mishima Financial Tower. He quickly lit another cigarette. His trip to the U.S. was eventful, but would ultimately be viewed as a failure. He did his best to try and secure investors for Mishima Corporation's western expansion, an important goal on the company agenda, but the lack of full commitment from his States-side business partners would postpone the company's global aspirations. While Lee wasn't particularly dismayed by this he found it bothersome relaying such news to his superior, CEO Heihachi Mishima. Lee put out his cigarette and headed for the elevator.

It had taken nearly forty years—almost two thirds of his boss's lifetime—to expand the Mishima empire across Japan. The conglomerate had two publicly accessible divisions, the Financial Empire and Heavy Industries. The Financial Empire was an economic powerhouse, reviving businesses and providing jobs to millions of Japanese citizens. Because of their success, most economists now considered Osaka to be "The Wall Street of Asia".

The Heavy Industries branch was just as impressive, bringing in countless amounts of revenue from a wide range of newly developed technologies. In a country that almost seemed to fetishize electronics, their products were dominating the market. Lee played no small part in achieving this status for the company, his innovative ideas kept them far ahead of the competition, competition that was now under a majority of their ownership. He also prided himself in the hiring of world renowned scientist Dr. Boskonovitch who was breaking new ground in the field of bio-engineering.

Yet despite his contributions, Heihachi was the one who wielded the power. Politicians, businessmen, even gangsters all yielded before the man who was soon to be the wealthiest of all time. Credited as the person who brought Japan into a new golden age, Heihachi arguably had more influence than the Prime Minister himself. But what good was influence if interests could not be protected? That was the function of the third, secret branch of the conglomerate, a growing team of highly trained mercenaries known as the Tekken Force.

As the owner and creator of this private military group, Heihachi conducted operations behind closed doors. At his behest, the team would perform any number of tasks from security escorts to counter-terrorism, but if the price was right, kidnappings and even assassinations were fair game. Currently, there was a unit deployed in Southeast Asia to guard a vital route for drug trafficking. Opium was in demand, and not an ounce of it entered Japan without Heihachi's approval. All of his rivals had either fled the country or died vicious deaths by the sword, it was the price of crossing a Mishima.

When he reached the top floor, Lee passed by a stylish fountain in the lobby. He paused for a moment to observe several large catfish swimming through the clear shallow waters. The simplicity of nature only made the complexities of his own life more apparent. He moved along and turned around the corner into a long hallway. His black leather shoes echoed off the marble floor as he approached a pair of ominous oak doors—the image of a pouncing tiger sculpted across them.

Guards dressed in black suits, each sporting the same pair of sunglasses, stood on either side of the entrance. Yakuza henchmen, how typical, less tasteful than his own female squad, but better than nothing Lee thought. Without a word the doors were opened for him and he stepped into a spacious office. Mounted in the corners of the room were four 60 inch monitors, each partitioned into four screens, displaying live feeds from security cameras throughout the building.

At the center of the room sat a massive figure behind an equally massive conference table—two folded hands rested upon the surface like cement blocks. Behind the table framed on the wall was an artistic piece with the word "Dominance" scrawled across it in Japanese. In most offices, an item such as that would exude a sense of empty posturing, but in this case it was anything but. Heihachi was the real deal.

"I bring news from the West," Lee bowed lowly before his adoptive father.

"Speak," Heihachi said. The windows quivered at the sound of his baritone voice.

Lee cleared his throat, "after meeting with our Western partners they have shown interest in supporting our corporation overseas."

"So we have our investors."

"Not yet, but soon."

"Explain."

"As you already know, some of our partners are also supporting G Corporation. We will be competing ever more intensely when we have facilities established in the U.S. They have faith in our business, and are actually quite excited to be a part of our enterprise, however-"

"However what?"

Lee hated being interrupted, "They have become aware of the recent _incidents_ involving some of our facilities."

"You tried to persuade them? You are talented at that, are you not?"

"They are very protective of their funds, wise men indeed, and terrorist-like acts towards a company don't exactly inspire the greatest sense of confidence for investors."

Heihachi rose out of his leather chair to face the window. His broad shoulders stretched through his white tailored suit. "I see, so the Americans are wary of similar attacks if our facilities are built on their own soil. They'd rather hold onto the seemingly more stable, yet obviously inferior G Corporation, but the truth is inevitable—they will fall."

Heihachi's grey, wreath-like hair cast a menacing shadow across the dimly lit office. "Their economy is struggling, while ours becomes richer. The Americans can continue to play this fleeting game, but when they've reached their limit, they will be at my doorstep craving money like beggars. Tell them that anyone who suspends support for G Corporation will be granted priority investment options."

"A bold move that will shake up the lion's den," Lee stated.

"Absolutely, those prudent fools who wait for the attacks to subside will be left in the cold where they belong."

"And if these attacks continue?" Lee asked.

Heihachi turned around. The glare on his timeworn complexion said it all.

"It couldn't possibly be who you think it is," Lee reasoned, "He's was declared dead by multiple sources, and even if he was still living, how could one man succeed in several strikes at facilities across Japan?"

"Maybe he has help," Heihachi was unconvinced.

Lee tactfully shifted the focus of the conversation. "I received the final roster of fighters for the grand Iron Fist tournament and a certain last name caught my eye…_Kazama_."

Heihachi's ears perked at the sound of the name. "The boy?"

"I actually met him personally. He's grown to be quite strong. It's shame he doesn't remember me, perhaps he was too young when I left to train overseas."

A bellow emitted from Heihachi's chest. "The timing couldn't be more perfect. There is no doubt these nagging attacks on my buildings can be ended permanently."

"You have a plan."

"It is simple, the boy will be my bait. After that, the only option for this _terrorist_ will be to emerge. And then, I will crush him myself. There might be other uses for the boy if he's no longer weak. Perhaps I'll enlist him in my hit squad. Keep an eye on him."

A sinister grin appeared on Lee's face, "Consider it done."


End file.
